A slight disclaimer : This is a fan fiction based on the characters from Squaresoft and Disney's video game, Kingdom Hearts. Besides the title, there will be references to "Your Song" by Elton John. Everything else is pretty much mine

Please don't hesitate to leave a review and if you have any suggestions for this piece, I'd be more than happy to hear them. Thank you!

The Your Song Transcripts

by : NieA

Entry Number One.

Pen to paper, with absolutely nothing stress-free running through my mind. The lilting scent of a burning Orange Mango candle drifted from it's base atop the singing 5 disc stereo. The gentle voice of Elton John poured over my ears like sweet, melted chocolate and warmed my heart. Finally, words began to spill out from my hand, adorning the periwinkle lines of my college-ruled notebook with sloppy, scribbled text. Funny how all that time I spent trying to pretty up my handwriting skills did little for my persistent, inbred chicken scratch.

Anyways. My stomach was growling at me. Instinct tried it's best to get me on my feet so I could dance my groovy way over to find something edible – but then I remembered how most of everything I owned was marinated, injected, and smothered in sodium. The fear of inflicting a bout of irritable bowels convinced me to ignore my urges and continue with my writing.

"So anyways. Are you restarting that one tale you never finished?"

"Actually, I never wanted to finish it because my damn wrist was killing me after a while, and someone wouldn't stop staring at me."

"Whatever." Across from me, my best friend and enemy stood, soaking me in his saccharine, glazed-over, admiring eyes. His hair was particularly messy this evening, and his lips seemed a bit dry.

"So what are you writing about, then?" Sora inquired. I suppose it was a bit of an elaborate setting for him to have guessed that I was writing a short satire about our relationship. Burning candles and sentimental music usually implied that I was writing something romantic– or at least that was what he apparently had deduced by the perplexed look on his face. There was nothing I loved more than throwing my little compadre totally out of his comprehensive capacity.

"I am writing a short narrative piece explaining to the world precisely how I manipulated you into confessing something very, very naughty last night."

Sora pouted and unleashed a boyish whine. "Riku! You promised you wouldn't ever tell anyone! Give me that, let me see!"

At that moment, Sora had bound onto the bed from where I was writing and wrestled like a furious kitten for the possession of my notebook. Shameless as I am, I snuck a kiss or two onto his cheek– an action which was hardly worth the slap which is still stinging across my mouth. Ultimately, however, my mission was accomplished; steaming little Sora stormed out of my room, slamming the door behind him.

And this is the part where I unleash the maniac cackle I inherited from my father. It grates on his nerves to know that his son claimed from him all the points of appearance and character that he was proud to have exclusively owned– his straight, silver hair, and his damn crazy laugh. Secretly, I suppose that when papa puts away his pride he's actually quite pleased to have a son as attractive, talented, and intelligent as I am. Or not. To tell the truth, I'm actually quite modest about my looks. Sora was always the more desirable one between us, really– or so Kairi and just about every other female tourist on Destiny Island insists.

But no matter. Now that I've successfully angered Sora out of my room, and since my mouth is still stinging (dammit), I'm going to reveal exactly what that naughty little secret of his was.

Just wait until I get back from dinner, though.